


Forever

by SidheRa



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Love/Hate, POV Second Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidheRa/pseuds/SidheRa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is above, aloof, far and away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble that fell out of me when I should have been working on other things. I'm a bit depressed now.

There is never a good time to bring it up, and maybe you never will anyway because you’re only fooling yourself if you think she doesn’t already know. She can see right through you, always has been able to, and it would scare you except it doesn’t.

In the bad times, she is everything that’s wrong with your entire fucked up life. She is the fire that licks at your heels, she is the hunger that gnaws at your belly, she is the hand that holds you down. She will never give you what you give to her; she will never love you. She is above, aloof, far and away. But only in the bad times.

In between the bad times, she is everything you never knew you needed. She is the fire that burns in your belly, the hunger that can never be slaked, the hand that pulls you up out of the darkness. She will never give you half of what you give to her, but you love her unselfishly. She is above, aloof, far and away, and she keeps your feet moving long past your breaking point.

On bitter cold nights in lands where the language is so foreign you can’t even tell where the words start or end, she is there by your side, ordering room service and laughingly helping you figure out the shower.

On sweltering days wandering through the desert, searching for organizations that shouldn’t exist and millionaires too dumb to stay at home, she is there by your side, coating the back of your neck with sun block and making a game of counting droplets of sweat.

You are better with her, but you can function without her, and she’ll admit the latter but never the former. She is above, aloof, far and away, but she is the closest thing you will ever have to a home.

You tell her everything about yourself, and sometimes she reciprocates, but mostly she just watches, distant, waiting for some sign and reason known only to her. Sometimes, when she either finds it or gets tired of waiting, she kisses you like you’re air, and for a long moment, you can forget that she’s above and aloof. You forget it entirely, and for one perfect instant, she’s there with you, next to you, inside your skin and under your heart.

That lie always crashes around you when she’s gone in the morning.

She doesn’t mean it, any of it, not really, doesn’t want to cut you to the core with her distance or gut you with her silence, but she can’t help being who she is any more than you can help letting her ransack your soul.

She is fire and ice, summer and winter, a dichotomy of good and evil writ in mortal flesh. She will never want the things you want, never want the normalcy and comfort of a Stepford life.

She is not perfect, but neither are you. So instead of children and pets and soccer on Tuesdays, you find forever in the moments between.


End file.
